iPoem · 2817.6986.245.931 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

Based on Raymond Queneau’s A Hundred Thousand Billion Poems, The 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem is a non-commercial artistic project inspired by Queneau’s work and the tradition of literary variation it inaugurated.
→ iPoem 2817.6986.245.931 (no. 796,880) was generated on October 12, 2026 at 11:58 pm
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